Here we are, way up north in Maine, around the Acadia forest, and seemingly away from all civilization.
We went to sleep on our first night lulled by the sound of windchimes on the deck—just a bit windy around here. The storm brew all night long and morning greeted us with a power outage. The sound of winds raging and waves crashing on the rocks was deafening. The wind chimes n the porch have long frozen still. Nothing to see on the horizon but the thickness of snow making everything gray. Freezing rain, snow sticking to the rocks. And a raging fire inside.
Safely tucked in, we revel in the feel of safety, the power of nature raging around us, and the joy of being together. No words necessary. Moment of gold.
After the storm is done pouring out its anger, seagulls reappear and we can see the horizon once again. Danni decides to make a snowman on the deck. Still in her pajamas, she puts on gloves, a heavy jacket and a hat. Before long, there is a little snowman formed on the railing. Eyes and arms? Didn’t we have lobster last night?
Ramaging through the garbage, she found two claws intact enough and a head.
What should we name him?